


Kiss To Make It Better

by keelywolfe



Series: Hobbit Shorts [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10188953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: They say that Dwarves are hard-headed, but they have nothing on Hobbits.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little tidbit to entertain. :)

* * *

"I truly am terribly sorry."

"I know, you don't have to keep saying that." To Bilbo's ear it sounded far closer to 'I dough, you don hab to keeb saying dat,' muffled through the cloth Thorin was holding to his nose.

"Yes, well, I am!" Bilbo blurted, wringing his hands anxiously, watching as the white of his clean handkerchief was slowly overtaken with crimson. At least he'd managed to fumble it from his pocket before any of it had dripped down to ruin Thorin's shirtfront. "Are you sure you aren't supposed to tip your head back? I always thought you had to tip your head back, maybe you should—"

Thorin tucked his chin closer to his chest, breathing loudly through his mouth. "Bilbo," he interrupted, his voice unnaturally nasal, "Breathe."

"I am breathing! I am breathing perfectly fine, you’re the one who is gushing out a fountain of blood from the nose!" Bilbo paused to gasp in a lungful of air, because he was breathing, thank you very much, he was. Because all of this was Thorin's fault, anyway, if he hadn't been looming over Bilbo when he'd leaned over to give his feet a proper brushing they wouldn't be here to being with. Those famous Dwarven reflexes had not served him well when Bilbo had abruptly stood and the back of his head had met with Thorin's nose. They weren't _supposed_ to be here, they were supposed to be in the main dining hall entertaining guests from the Grey Mountains but everyone had agreed that a person coming to dine while still leaking blood was likely to ruin the heartiest of appetites, even if the person bleeding was a King. 

"And I still think you should tip your head back, I seem to recall reading it would staunch the bleeding faster—"

"Tipping the head back only sends the blood down the throat," Thorin said, for all the world as calm and as patient as if he was explaining to Frodo why he couldn't sleep with a nestful of ravens in his room. "And it is not a fountain of blood; few would even consider it a puddle."

"You'll have to excuse me for my imprecise measurements in blood!" Bilbo bristled, "A fountain, a puddle; I'd prefer none at all!" 

"So would I," Thorin said, dryly and Bilbo wilted.

''I am so terribly sorry—"

"If you'd like to apologize," Thorin broke in smoothly, dabbing away a last splotch of blood. "Perhaps you would be so kind to kiss my hurts away?"

"Kiss?" Bilbo repeatedly, blinking foolishly. 

"Is that not what you do for Frodo?" Thorin arched an eyebrow. "You give him a kiss to take away the pain?"

"Well, yes," Bilbo admitted, "But he's a child."

That earned him a second raised eyebrow. "So you only take away the pain for children? I should suffer through even grievous pains that you caused?"

"Grievous, indeed," Bilbo sighed. "Very well." He leaned in and gingerly placed a kiss over the delicate skin that was already purpling. He lingered, breathing soft as he peppered tiny, soft kisses down to the very tip of Thorin's nose. The last kiss was set upon his lips, chaste and tender, and then Bilbo leaned back on his heels and gave Thorin a raised brow of his own.

"And?" Bilbo said, prompting. "Did that soothe your pains?"

"Aye, my nose feels much better," Thorin reached up and rubbed a rueful finger down the length of it. "I'm afraid my other pain still lingers."

"Other pain?" Bilbo frowned anxiously. "I thought it was only your nose! Where…" He trailed away as Thorin took his hand and led it downward—directly between his legs. Bilbo gave him an exasperated look and gave the bulge beneath his hand a firm squeeze. "You cannot possibly be serious."

"I could not possibly be anything else," Thorin sighed. 

He lifted up his tunic, lifting his hips enough to tug his trousers down to his upper thighs. Bilbo drew back enough to let him before taking him back in hand, the hard length of his cock already gleaming wet at the tip and eager, and wasn't that like a Dwarf, Bilbo thought, not unkindly. Even a good spot of pain and blood didn't take their minds off the more important matters at hand, so to speak. 

"Tighter," Thorin groaned, his hand cupping over both of Bilbo's, urging him to squeeze harder. "Tighter, you will not hurt me."

Bilbo bit his lip and did not ask if he was sure, though it seemed like a terribly brutal grip. His fingers already ached, though he obediently followed the rhythm Thorin guided him into. Sore hands mattered little so long as he could watch this, the hard, reddened shaft sliding slickly through his fingers, the push of his hips as Thorin arched into his grip. 

The bow of his back carried upward, his head tipping back and the spread of his hair over the pillows made Bilbo wish it was possible to be in two places at once. Perhaps three, for the line of his throat was bare and beardless, pleading for teeth to edge bruises into his fine skin. 

A feast of temptation was Thorin when laid bare, and Bilbo took it all in with fervent promises to himself and stayed where he was, pressing both thumbs hard against the head of Thorin's cock to hear him gasp aloud, groaning as he pulsed hot over Bilbo's knuckles, pearly wetness gleaming on his hands. 

He waited, patient, gentling his grip until Thorin could open his eyes again, dark lashes lifting from his cheeks. Only then did he raise one hand to his mouth, licking thoughtfully at his knuckles to see Thorin's eyes darken. "You're quite pretty when you do that, did you know?"

To Bilbo's delight, the Dwarf blushed crimson, color rising in his cheeks. He leaned in and offered a smacking kiss as a reward, ignoring the way Thorin tried to turn his head away. "I find your prudish nature to be utterly charming. I know you know that."

"I do know that," Thorin muttered, "I do not enjoy it, but I know it."

"Liar," Bilbo said, not unkindly. "You enjoy it very much."

"I enjoyed that," Thorin admitted. He leaned in and stole a gentle kiss, and Bilbo let him, but he broke it after only a moment. Thorin's tunic, having survived the bloody onslaught of earlier, had not made it through this unscathed and Bilbo retrieved a new one from the wardrobe. 

"Come along then, we'll still be on time for the main course if we hurry," Bilbo urged, helping him change into fresh clothes despite his protests.

"I'd thought to return the favor," Thorin grumbled, though he let Bilbo manage the laces and buttons. 

"Dinner will be favor enough for now," Bilbo retorted. "We'll see to my other aches and pains tonight, I'm sure."

"Shall I kiss your pains better?" Thorin gave him a grin and his bruised face only enhanced the wickedness.

"Perhaps I'll kiss yours," Flirting was not generally a skill Bilbo possessed, but with a burst of inspiration, Bilbo touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip, wetting it. Just long enough to see Thorin's eyes darken and then he danced back, out of reach. "Later! Tonight we still have plans for supper."

"Supper," Thorin sighed, and yet, he allowed Bilbo to tug him insistently from the room, following behind him with a heavy tread. Supper, for now, Bilbo decided, and then later, perhaps, would be dessert.

He did still owe Thorin a kiss for his pains. 

-finis-


End file.
